No Guarantees
by static-disturbed
Summary: Something happens to Danny at a scene that puts things in perspective for Lindsay. D/L. My first attempt at CSI: NY, just a short one-shot to get my feet wet with these characters.


**Title:** No Guarantees

**Summary:** Something happens to Danny at a crime scene that puts things in perspective for Lindsay. D/L. Some language. This is my first time writing CSI: NY so I kept it short, just trying to feel my way into writing these characters. I've got more D/L where this came from if you're into it.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, unfortunately. Errors are solely my own.

* * *

The deteriorating building stank of urine and mildew and when Detective Danny Messer finally made his way through the door that led into the hall of the eighteenth floor he had to stop and catch his breath. Detective Don Flack followed him through the door a second later and cursed under his breath.

"This prick better be the killer, or have some damn good answers for us," Don lamented and Danny laughed.

"What if he's not home?"

"He better be home," Don answered simply as they started their way down the hall, towards apartment 18D.

Six hours earlier the body of Heather Disalvo, a twenty-five year old waitress from Long Island had been found in an alley. She'd been shot twice in the abdomen and her purse and wallet had been cleaned out. Prints on the wallet had come back to one Garret Fuller, a twenty-three year old junkie with countless priors for possession and burglary. The only reason the kid wasn't behind bars was because he was in court ordered drug counseling. Danny had a feeling Garret had fallen off the wagon. He'd either killed Heather when he robbed her or stumbled across her body later and robbed her corpse. Either way, they needed to have a little talk with him. Fuller's address had of course come back to the barely inhabitable complex in the Bronx. Danny and Flack had quickly realized that the elevators in the building were out of commission. They'd started the eighteen-flight trek, becoming more and more annoyed with their suspect on every floor.

"NYPD," Don rapped a knuckle on the door and Danny unholstered his service pistol as did the other detective. When the door swung open Danny knew his earlier suspicions that Garret was back to shooting up were correct. The kid's eyes were practically sunk into his head and he was shivering just slightly.

"What's new Garret?" Flack greeted with a wide smile that obviously made the kid uncomfortable, "You sick or something pal? You got the shakes."

"Get off my case," Garret bit out, "I'm in court ordered rehab. Check my rap sheet."

"We're here about this girl," Danny produced a photo of Heather from his folder and took a couple steps into the apartment behind Flack, both of them holstering their guns after taking a glance around the apartment, "She turned up dead this morning Garret. Your grimey little prints were all over her stuff."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what kid," Don took a step into the junkie's personal space, "Don't piss me off. I already had to walk up all those goddamn rat infested stairs, if I were you I'd try to be as accommodating as possible."

"It's pretty simple Garret," Danny shook his head, "Your fingerprints are on file for your previous arrests. We dusted this girl's wallet and purse for fingerprints and the only ones on it belonged to her and to you. You can fight with us all you want but you can't fight science. Or DNA, because I can swab that bag for epithelials and I promise you I'll come up with your DNA. So you can either tell us what happened or we let science help us make assumptions."

"What happened?" Flack pressed, "you needed a fix and were all out of cash? You watched that girl get off work at the restaurant, knew she'd have a purse full of tips. I don't need science to tell me that, junkies don't change their stripes."

Garret Fuller crossed his arms over his chest and flashed a sarcastic, typical smart-ass grin.

"I've heard of good cop, bad cop…but what's this dumb cop, smart cop?"

"Ouch," Flack lamented dryly with an uninterested roll of his eyes and a sarcastic hand over his heart, "that ones gonna keep me up all night."

Garret shrugged again.

"I told you I didn't kill that girl. I don't even know her."

"Yea?" Danny inquired casually, "how much you wanna bet that if we look around this dump we won't find any of the stuff you took from Heather Disalvo, granted you didn't pawn it all off yet."

Garret seemed to loose his cool after hearing Danny's question and both detectives watched his shifty eyes travel nervously in the direction of the end table.

Danny took two quick steps toward the table and smiled when he realized that the keys on the table held a photo key chain, Heather Disalvo and her boyfriend were smiling at him from the photo.

"Boom," Danny grinned at Flack, "I don't know Flack, it's weird to have a photo of a girl you don't know huh?"

Don smiled, opening his mouth to continue the witty banter with his partner when everything went to hell. Garret Fuller lunged towards the end table, not grabbing for the keys but instead pulling open a drawer and coming up with a 44. clutched in a shaking hand. Danny and Don both drew their own weapons but barely had time to react otherwise when Garret started to fire.

The kid was a weak shot and took a bullet from Danny's gun in the thigh but kept shooting as he hit the ground. Don saw Danny stumble before he was able to land a square round in Garret's chest, stilling all movement from the shooter. It had all happened in less than a minute and Don had to shake his head clear as he tried to actually take in what had just happened.

"Danny!"

The CSI had eventually hit the floor, one hand grasping at the wound in his side that was bleeding steadily.

"We need a bus ASAP, officer down! I repeat officer down," Don shouted into his radio as he fell to Danny's side. He dropped his radio, heard the dispatcher's response crackling back to him.

"Danno, hold on buddy," Don quickly pressed his hands against the bullet wound in his friends side, applying pressure and grimacing as blood leaked from between his fingers.

"I'm okay," Danny promised weakly, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut, "just hurts like a son of a bitch."

"Rescue's on their way, just hold on man."

"Trust me," Danny gasped, "No way I'm dying in this dump, not without having ever seen my little boy."

"It's a boy?" Flack managed a smile, almost having to laugh at the fact that even when Danny Messer was bleeding from a gunshot he couldn't stop talking.

"Lindsay wanted to keep it a secret, just for a little while, don't tell her I spilled the beans already" Danny once again gritted his teeth, his entire body clenching up as he fought through a wave of pain.

Don could hear sirens echoing down the block and suddenly remembered about the busted elevator, grabbed his radio to let dispatch know to tell the EMT's to go straight for the stairs.

"You ok man?" he questioned after dropping his radio again, trying to keep a calm voice. Danny's skin was gleaming with sweat, his eyes looking tired. "Don't go clockin' out on me Messer."

"I'm not going anywhere," Danny insisted once again, "I promised Lindsay I was in this for the long haul. Can't break that promise."

Don nodded and continued talking, trying his best to keep Danny coherent as they listened for the sound of the EMT's boots in the hall.

* * *

The area surrounding the entrance to the apartment building wasn't technically a crime scene but Flack had instructed the responding uniforms to put it up anyway, he didn't want anyone getting in the way when the EMT's came through with Danny. The ambulance was idling, the back doors open and one EMT waiting patiently inside. Beside it the corners van was parked, the boys from the medical examiners office were waiting for Danny to get down the stairs before they went up for Garret's body.

"Flack!" Lindsay's voice traveled from across the street and he started making his way towards her approaching figure. Despite the fact that at eight months pregnant her fastest pace was little more than a waddle Lindsay reached the tape before him and moved to cross under it only to be stopped by a rookie patrolmen who had been instructed to guard the perimeter.

"I'm sorry Miss but you can't…"

"It's Detective Monroe," Lindsay corrected impatiently, unzipping her jacket slightly to pull her badge, which hung around her neck on a chain, loose. Don had to grin a little as the rookie, probably only a few weeks out of the academy, turned beet red with embarrassment.

"My apologies detective," he stammered as he lifted the tape for the pregnant CSI to cross under. Lindsay didn't pay him any more attention, her sights set on Flack who reached her quickly and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"He's okay," he assured immediately, taking in her worried expression and pale skin, "He took a shot to the side but it doesn't seem to have hit anything vital. He's running his mouth and everything, he's gonna be fine."

A ghost of a fragile smile tugged at Lindsay's lips but she couldn't hold it and he watched tears rise to the corners of her eyes.

"Where is he?" she questioned, wiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Eighteen floors up," Don gestured to the looming, decrepit building, "And the elevators in this crap hole have been busted for years probably. EMT's are bringing him down the stairs, gonna be a few."

He could feel her body trembling slightly under his touch.

"Come on Monroe, come sit down," he led her to a squad car and pulled the passenger door open. Lindsay lowered herself into the seat, keeping her feet on the pavement and taking a deep breathe as she placed both hands on her stomach.

"I was doing paperwork," she started and Don nodded. Lindsay had finally gone on light duty a few weeks earlier, which meant her duties were mostly limited to paperwork around the lab, "And the call came in. I just…I could feel people staring at me, I knew it had to be him." There was a slight tremor in her voice and Don tried to offer a reassuring smile. "I was really scared," she admitted, "I got down here as fast as I could."

"Everything was routine," Don explained, relaying the story of what had happened to her, "The kid was a smart ass, junkie with shakes but I never once got a threatening vibe from him. We didn't even really like him for the murder actually, figured he'd just come across the body and rifled through her stuff. Then Danny noticed the vic's keys sitting there in the apartment and everything changed like that," he snapped his fingers, "lunges for a gun, starts shooting."

"Are you okay?" Lindsay pressed, "they said you were the kill shot."

"I'm fine," he waved her off, "that's the job. We do what we have to protect each other and ourselves. I'm not gonna lose any sleep knowing that a murderer who tried to take out me and my friend is dead, can't let myself go there."

Lindsay nodded in understanding and smiled suddenly, glancing down at her stomach.

"He's finally settling down, I think I got him all worked up."

"You know, even bleeding up there Messer couldn't stop talking about his two favorite things in the world."

Lindsay frowned.

"The Yankees and his mother's chicken cacciatore?"

Don chuckled and shook his head.

"No, you and that baby."

Before she could say anything else there was a commotion at the front doors of the apartment building as the EMT's exited, Danny's stretcher between them. Don helped her climb to her feet as they both made their way towards the waiting ambulance.

"Lindsay," Danny grinned weakly as she approached the side of the stretcher, "You didn't need to run down here baby, I'm fine."

"You scared the crap out of me," she scolded gently and then placed a hand on her belly, "out of both of us."

Danny reached out to let his fingers ghost across her stomach as his eyes finally drifted shut.

"We put him on a drip of pain meds," one EMT explained as they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, "he's just finally feeling them. He yapped the whole way down the stairs."

Lindsay smiled.

"What hospital are you taking him to? I'm gonna follow."

The EMT rattled off the information for her and Lindsay made her way back to her car. She followed the ambulance closely with her own sirens flashing, trying the whole way not to think about what could have been.

* * *

Hours later at the hospital Danny was sitting up in his bed, frowning down at the paperwork in front of him. A guy couldn't even get shot without having to document every second of it. The doctors were prepared to release him later that night as they'd retrieved the bullet, stitched up his wound and given him direct orders to get lots of rest and stay off his feet until it was properly healed. Lindsay sat in the chair beside his bed, intercepting every phone call about Danny's state from friends and relatives. She was watching him intently; content to just observe his small, annoyed faces as he penned his statement.

"Yes." Her voice startled him out of his concentration and he glanced up, pushed his glasses up his nose and gave her a confused squint.

"Yes what?"

When he saw her quickly swipe away a stray tear he let the paperwork fall to his side and he reached a hand out to her. She took it and intertwined it with her own.

"Lindsay what's wrong?" Danny pressed and Lindsay simply smiled before speaking.

"I told you that I wanted to wait, for the right time. But today I guess I realized that we aren't like everyone else. With this job we don't get the luxury of waiting for anything, tomorrow is never a guarantee," she brought his hand up to press a kiss to a knuckle, "So yes."

She watched realization dawn on his face, blue eyes widening and the corners of his mouth tugging into a hesitant grin.

"You are saying what I think you're saying right?"

"Yes."

"You gonna marry me Lindsay Monroe?"

"I'm gonna marry you Danny Messer."

His smile made her heart rate double and she felt the baby begin to kick as he pulled her towards him for a kiss.

"You realize you just turned one of the crappiest days of my life into the best?" he asked as they pulled apart, gently brushing a stray curl from her forehead.

"Someone else is happy about it," she took his hand and placed it on her belly and Danny leaned in to speak to his unborn son.

"Ya hear that buddy? Mommy and daddy are getting hitched. You know if I'd known she was looking for a showy engagement I would have gotten shot earlier."

Lindsay slapped him playfully on the shoulder and Danny could only laugh.

"You're really ready for forever with me Montana?"

"I'm not just ready for it," she took his hand again, "I'm counting on it."

**Eh? Let me know what you think.**


End file.
